


Life Moves On

by opalmatrix



Category: Fall of Ile-Rien - Martha Wells
Genre: Family Feels, Gen, Next Generation
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-12-26
Updated: 2020-12-26
Packaged: 2021-03-11 05:35:29
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 775
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/28329831
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/opalmatrix/pseuds/opalmatrix
Summary: For Tremaine's chosen family, life moves forward.
Relationships: Ilias/Tremaine Valiarde
Comments: 2
Kudos: 8
Collections: Yuletide Madness 2020





	Life Moves On

**Author's Note:**

  * For [sprocket](https://archiveofourown.org/users/sprocket/gifts).



> I read this prompt: "... these 'adventures' may be as exciting as Who Is Going To Deal With Visolela" and this story sprang forth. No beta.

The old house hadn't been this crowded for a year or more. But even though Davret and her husband Serras were happily settled in another house that several of the young Aelin had pooled their wages to buy, she had wanted to come back to Tremaine's for the birth of their first child. Tremaine (whose interest in the baby was limited to "is she healthy?") had appointed herself doorkeeper after hearing from the midwife that what Davret needed most was quiet so that she and Serras could get to know their child.

And then the god had turned up for a visit.

The trickle of would-be visitors had become a mighty stream. By the end of the third day of the child's life, Tremaine's hold on her temper was frayed to near nothing. "I'll take the next one," said Ilias. "You sit."

Tremaine threw herself down on a cushioned seat and glared at him. Calit brought her a glass of wine and a cheese pastry from the kitchen, where most of the visitors had been pressed into useful service.

They did not have long to wait. Ilias strode off to answer the door, and Tremaine strained her ears to hear who it was. After a moment, Ilias' voice rose above the bustle from the kitchen and the handful of children playing on the floor of the main room. He sounded annoyed, and the voice that answered his was Visolela's. Tremaine gulped the rest of her wine, put the cup down on the floor, and levered herself off the cushions. By the time she got to the door, Ilias had achieved speechlessness with annoyance.

"There you are!" said Visolela. "Everyone's on about the god and this baby. Giliead is still Chosen Vessel?"

"Yes," said Tremaine, firmly.

"I told her that," muttered Ilias.

"Then what was this about?" demanded Visolela.

"You should ask Giliead," said Tremaine. "But he told me that the god wasn't angry in any way and that the god's interest was therefore a good thing. Visolela, it's well after dark, and we'll be trying to get some rest soon."

Since the noise of the other visitors could be heard quite clearly, this was close to rude, but at this point Tremaine didn't care. Visolela pressed her lips together and finally shook her head. She half turned and picked up a basket that had been hidden behind her skirts. "Beer. For the new mother. It will make the milk flow. And something else for the baby when she's older. Take care, the lot of you."

Tremaine took the heavy basket. Ilias continued to glare at Visolela until she turned, scowling, and left. The basket contained three stoppered jars that sloshed slightly and a small leather pouch. "What is it?" Ilias asked.

"It's not my gift," Tremaine said. "But it feels like it could be jewelry," Elon came out from the kitchen, eyebrows raised, and she handed him the basket. "Beer, Visolela said. I'm going to give whatever this is to Davret, if she's awake."

"I'll come with you," Ilias said.

"Who," demanded Tremaine "Is going to watch the door?"

"I will," declared Calit from the kitchen.

He was all of 14, as far as they could figure out. Tremaine looked him over and then shrugged. "Why not?" she said and walked off to see Davret, Ilias in her wake.

Davret was awake, singing softly to the baby. Serras was asleep beside her in the big bed. Tremaine help out the little bag. "A gift from Visolela. For when the baby's older, she said."

"Oh, how kind," said Davret. "Can you open it up and show me?"

It was a bracelet of coral beads, in all shades of red, rose, and white. "Some folk think they're lucky," said Ilias.

"That's…unexpectedly nice," said Tremaine, slowly. "I'm not sure how old the baby should be before you give them to her. Davret, does she have a name yet? I'm getting tired of calling her 'the baby.'"

Serras blinked, yawned, and sat up. "You'll have to put up with it another eighteen days or so," he said. "The Aelin elders say that a child should be named at twenty-one days old." 

"But we know what we're going to name her, especially because she seems favored by a god." said Davret. "Lorian."

That sounded familiar, for some reason. "Is that an Aelin name?" asked Ilias, looking as puzzled as Tremaine felt.

Davret smiled at them. "No. It's for Tremaine's friend, the woman sorceror who helped save us."

_Florian._ Tremaine's lips formed the name, but no sound came out. Ilias squeezed her hand. "That's a good name," he said firmly.


End file.
